


The Sacrifices We Make For Dreams

by SiederTreeStudios



Series: FullMetal Alchemist Works [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003), Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: Angst fic, Edward Elric Keeps Alchemy, Edward Elric Keeps Automail, Edward Elric Swears, FMA angst, Gen, Hurt Edward Elric, Restored Alphonse Elric, fma 03, honestly this is just something I came up with, idk what else to tag it, it is what it is, parental RoyEd if you squint - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24102250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiederTreeStudios/pseuds/SiederTreeStudios
Summary: He considered if it was worth it, so many times. It had been months since he had returned, and at least half a year since his disappearance before Edward had returned to a world that no longer remembered him.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric & Riza Hawkeye, Alphonse Elric & Roy Mustang, Edward Elric & Riza Hawkeye, Edward Elric & Roy Mustang, Parental RoyEd if you squint, Riza Hawkeye & Roy Mustang
Series: FullMetal Alchemist Works [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1709860
Comments: 18
Kudos: 98





	1. A Dream turned a Nightmare

**Author's Note:**

> Oh joy, angst is here! It was only a matter of time before I wrote something really gritty. Well, it’s more just depressing. Whatever! The point is, Ed is not gonna have a great time for this one folks. Everyone else shall be blissfully unaware, for now. Idk if this’ll be multi-chapters, but we’ll see.

“Perhaps dreams aren’t such great things after all.”

-ElderBug, Hollow Knight (2017)

——————————————————————

  
The streets of the East always drew Ed. 

It didn’t matter what he did to prevent it. He could feel himself walking a familiar path towards Eastern Command the moment he set foot on the sidewalk. He could picture his brother next to him, lecturing him already to be nice and to not stir up anything. He could feel the need to grumble about yet another report, and/or having to explain to his Commanding Officer why he had wreaked another building or statue of historical value. 

He would suppress it and suppress it, but to no avail. 

The heartache that came with indulging in his ongoing misery would prevail regardless of any token of positivity thrown his way.

A long, drawn out sigh—which was so common place with Edward at this point that it was welcomed—escaped his lips as Edward gazed at the Military building, a beacon of light in the darkness of the East at 3 am. He took a moment to observe it a little longer, his far away gaze lost in wishful thoughts, before taking a left to head where he had long since made his home.

Edward had liked to believe he’d long since grown used to what his life was. He had long since gotten used to lying through his teeth, through holding his tongue. He had long since grown accustomed to familiar faces just out of reach, to the depression that grew stronger with every passing word, with every small memory.

He considered if it was worth it, so many times. It had been months since he had returned, and at least half a year since his disappearance before Edward had returned to a world that no longer remembered him. He remembered dreaming of coming back, of seeing everyone again. Finding that transmutation on the floor was pure coincidence, he knew. Being able to activate it was pure luck as well, he was sure. 

For whatever reason, Truth brought him back. Be it necessity, be it fate, be it simply to torture him further, Edward Elric was back in Amestris. He remembered the deity vividly, as it echoed through his steps in the dark streets.

“You may go back, but at a cost. You will remember them, but they won’t remember you.” Truth stated, as if he was simply listing a price at the market place.

“What do you mean?! Why would I every make that deal, du stichelst?!” Edward exclaimed, struggling against the hands that held him in place as the Truth chuckled. _(Roughly Translates: you prick)_

“You said you wanted to go home. It’s clear you don’t respond to physical pain, and keep coming back here, so let’s experiment with psychological warfare, hmm? It’s either go back and be drafted, or go home and try and get them to remember you. Would you kill, Edward Elric, just because you can’t bare the thought of everyone you loved leaving you?” Truth said, leaning forward with a vicious grin.

Edward knew he couldn’t kill anyone else. Not after Greed. Not after all the other innocents he dragged into his mess. In his world or otherwise, he simply couldn’t kill anyone. There were two different Hell’s to choose, and he went for the one he knew.  


In the end, that’s all there was to it.

So here he was. Older, Depressed, tired beyond belief, and wallowing in his misery as the world moved farther and farther away from his by the day, but with mostly clean hands. Equivalent Exchange was a _dick._

He wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going until he knocked into an imposing figure. He fell hard, his smaller stature getting the better of him as he hit concrete. He shook his head, clearing dark spots as he muttered, “Truth’s _ass_ , that hurt..”

“Oh, I apologize for running into you sir! I’m afraid I didn’t see you.” A familiar, booming voice said as he was literally lifted off the ground and set back on his feet. Armstrong hadn’t changed much in the passing years, maintaining the same large figure and righteous atmosphere. He was in uniform, clearly in a rush for some crime scene. It had a few new stripes and stars, indicating he was a Colonel now. Must’ve been a few promotions since the Fuhrer died, Ed presumed. Not that he was keeping track.

(‘ _Mustang is Brigadier General, who the hell made that choice? Lazy Colonel can only slack off more_.’ Ed thought after searching for what happened to everyone.)

“You seem familiar. Have we met?” Armstrong mused, leaning down to peer into Ed’s face. Ed felt a spark of hope shine, for just a moment, before remembering the toll he paid as the man straightened up and stated, “I apologize again but I really must be going. You stay out of trouble, young man!” 

With that, he ran off, turning the corner. He remained oblivious to the hand stretched out towards him half heartedly, Ed caught himself a few moments after he left, withdrawing his hand. He couldn’t believe himself, he was seeking comfort from _ARMSTRONG_ , of all people!

“God, I really am far gone...” The 17 year old muttered, shoving his hand back in his pocket roughly and forcing himself to stride the opposite way, aware of the growing rift slowly cutting him off from the little hope he had left.

——————————————————————

A little ways away, Alex could barely focus on the crime scene in front of him. 

He felt as if something significant just happened, something was fixed, something _proven_. He felt as if he needed to tell everyone, needed to talk about it, needed to report it, to show it to the world. The persistence of the feeling just wouldn’t go away, he couldn’t think.

Something about the boy he ran into, with golden hair and eyes that shone with a sort of wisdom that eyes like that shouldn’t have been able to hold, especially on that young of a face.

Something about the look in his eyes, the flash of hope only to be doused by a sort of despair.

Alex knew it was completely irrational, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that boy had some sort of significance, to him and to many around him. 

He’d have to keep an eye out for him.


	2. Gaps in Memories and Inquiries of Military Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mustang can’t remember exactly how he took down the former Fuhrer. The gaps in his memories and the familiar face Armstrong saw might be linked, and he just doesn’t believe in coincidence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always look when you’re crossing the street my friends.
> 
> I hope Ed isn’t too out of character in this one, but I tried. Mustang is still drowning in paperwork. Can’t catch a break, that guy. In any case, Ed needs to get his shit together.
> 
> Also don’t @ me with the Hollow Knight quotes. I do what I want.

“All these memories, they will fade away like tears in the rain”.  
  


-Hollow Knight (2017)

———————————————————————

Brigadier General Roy Mustang. 

Quite the title, he must say. He worked his ass off for it, what with the catching a corrupt Fuhrer and helping start the country on the road to democracy. For the most part, the man is proud of himself.

But then there’s the stranger bits. The Flame Alchemist considered himself a very perceptive and self aware man, so he had no idea how it had escaped his mind the details of how he found out the Fuhrer was harboring ill-will to everyone in the country. 

Portions of his memory have been lost, likely due to time, but Mustang couldn’t help but feel a constant sense of forgetting someone. He couldn’t put his finger on it, it was as if he’d forgotten an old friend. He knew it was a someone he was forgetting, as that’s the only real way the gaps made sense, but nothing about the person ever came to mind. Not even a face.

Attached to that, he remembered what he suspected was a name, or phrase. Though he couldn’t imagine anyone with a name like “Fullmetal.” He suspected it was a code name of sorts, perhaps military. When he searched through the records though, no name matching that came up. He had gone to a doctor to test for amnesia, but they found nothing unusual. He asked his team if they were familiar with the name, to which they all replied negative. He wracked his brain, trying to find more, but nothing, not a single kernel of information resurfaced. 

Mustang knew he was hyper-fixating on this, but he couldn’t get the damn conundrum out of his head. All he knew was, without this “Fullmetal,” many dots are left unconnected. Too many for the man’s liking. 

Mustang sighed for the umpteenth time. He had turned the mystery over in his brain again and again, he doubted he’d find anything new or noteworthy in his clearly limited information span. Besides, he had paperwork to file on the new serial killer, because apparently there was a new one every week. He was awaiting Armstrong’s report, as the new Colonel had been sent to deal with the field reports and things of that sort. As if on que, the large man fumbled in, greeting his teammates and saluting to Mustang accordingly.

“At ease.” Mustang commanded exhaustedly. “I’m too tired for formalities today.”

Hawkeye sent him a pointed look at that comment. Whatever. Armstrong and him knew eachother fairly well, it didn’t matter. Armstrong gave his report, but with a few noteworthy differences. He lacked his usual gusto, seeming distracted and his report was sloppier then normal. Mustang, preparing himself for some over-dramatic serenade or something of that nature, said, “You seem distracted, Armstrong. What’s on your mind?”

“With all due respect, it isn’t of much importance to military matters, sir.” Armstrong said uncertainly.

“Tell me as a friend then. Distracted minds often lead to lack of mental perception, as I’m sure you are aware.” Mustang said, smoothly covering up his worry for his friend. Armstrong and him might not be all that buddy-buddy, but he was worried about him. Hopefully the man would see past his bluntness.

“It’s just, on the way to the crime scene, I bumped into someone who seemed familiar. I couldn’t put my finger on it, unfortunately. It’s strange, but I swear I know him, I just don’t know how exactly.” Armstrong said, sighing and looking rather tired himself. “It’s as though he’s someone of importance, but I’m not sure how.”

Mustang’s eyes narrowed at this. Could this person be related to his current mystery? Armstrong did participate in taking down the old Fuhrer, so it did at least seem possible. Mustang didn’t believe in coincidence anyways. 

“Did you get a name?” He inquired, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“No sir. He was a young man though, a little shorter than average. Long blonde hair, amber eyes, a very unusual intelligence in his eyes for his age. Very strange characteristics.” Armstrong replied.

“We’ll keep an eye out. You’re usually right when it comes to these things. Anyhoo, we will be moving back to the East for a period of time, at Fuhrer Grumann’s request. The serial killer supposedly has had the most activity there, and they are in need of manpower. So, we’re on the chopping block. You are to accompany us. Be ready by 6:30.” Mustang said, dismissing Armstrong accordingly. The man saluted and left.

“Does this have to do with your distractedness as of late, Brigadier?” Hawkeye said, eyeing the man as he returned to half-heartedly doing his paperwork.

“If you are referring to our mystery person, yes. Can’t let anything get past you, huh?” Mustang replied, a small smile gracing his lips.

“It would be unwise to attempt to get anything past me, as you are well aware sir.” Hawkeye replied, professionally as always.

Mustang groaned. ‘Why can’t that women loosen up?!’

Almost as if hearing his thoughts, the suspicious click of safety being taken off a gun. He masked a gulp, returning to his paperwork with diligence as to avoid the wrath of Riza Hawkeye.

——————————————————————

Ed’s apartment wasn’t very furnished.

In all honesty, Ed was more concerned about having a roof over his head then anything else, and a bed to sleep in. The room, for the most part, lacked anything truly personal, mainly due to Ed’s minimalistic tendencies, and the fact that he can fit most anything into his dark leather suitcase, due to traveling most of his life. Ed rarely spent that much time there, and today was no exception. He had woken up, gotten dressed, and headed out for some food. He poured over newspapers to find odd jobs, then would busy himself with that or wondering around the city.

It was funny, really, how little he spent in the city itself before everything really went south. He had grown fond of many small businesses, and the interactions he had with them were really the only connections he had left. They were kind, but they weren’t what he really needed. What he needed was out of reach to him, for the most part, without damaging his pride and his public outlook. Ed hadn’t so much as considered returning to Resembool and finding Al and Winry and Pinako. He hadn’t found the right way to phrase his current predicament without sounding literally insane. 

He’d find a way, he knew, but he needed to find the right words. And Edward could never seem to find the right words in any situation, despite being a prodigy. Al was always better at that. God he missed him.

Ed shook off that thought. ‘Not now. Can’t have a mental breakdown in the middle of the street.”

The day passed on as normal, as Ed finished the odd jobs, greeted some people he knew and held up short and uneventful conversations, and before he knew it, it was 7:00 pm. The sun was setting, and he found himself walking his usual route home. 

“Another day, another dollar.” He muttered sarcastically to himself. Existence was boring. Equivalent Exchange was still a dick. What is he even doing. All these things encircled his mind. It wasn’t until a sharp flash of alchemy caught his eye and a scruffy thief running with a purse in hand darted past him.

“Just as I thought Truth was going soft.” Ed said, smirking as he began to chase the man down, running though the streets and causing “slight” property damage. 

As Ed was running, he failed to realize the military car racing towards him.

And that’s when things got really interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um yeah. Look both ways kids. And maybe leave street thieves up to the police. 
> 
> Al and the Resembool gang will probably be coming up soon, but for now Mustang and the gang are up. Can’t wait to see what my FBI agent thinks of my search history of “what happens when you accidentally run over a child.”
> 
> I’m a writer I swear—


	3. Childish Bickering and Uncertain Curiosity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sure, Mustang does regret hitting the kid with his car. Then again, the blonde ran out unexpectedly and was a huge brat, so it’s only fair he reprimand him a little.
> 
> Something is a little off though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am ALIVE!!! I kind of hit a block with this story and it just sat as a notes document for a long long time but I am happy to inform you that I finally got to it! I have a better plan set in mind with the story now, so hopefully this will be easier to avoid in the future. I really want to finish this story, so I’m going to do my best!

“Precept Four: 'Forget Your Past'. The past is painful, and thinking about your past can only bring you misery. Think about something else instead, such as the future, or some food.”

-Zote the Mighty, Hollow Knight (2017)

——————————————————————

Mustang is barely able to swerve out of the way of the kid.

His visual perception was clearly failing him today, as he didn’t see the damn kid coming while driving. It hadn’t been very busy in the streets of the East, so that was a part of it, but he still couldn’t help but groan internally at his mistake. 

What was it he was lecturing Armstrong about again? “Distracted minds often lead to lack of mental perception,” his own words. Way to go, Mustang.

Had it not been for the situation at hand, he likely would’ve thought further on that, except for the fact that maybe his swerve hadn’t been as clean as he’d hoped.

He jumped out of the car, Hawkeye, Armstrong, and the rest of the team hot on his heels towards the kid. The small kid had been knocked over completely, cradling his leg in a strange manner, holding his foot yet not seeming hurt at all.

“Are you hurt?” Hawkeye demanded, kneeling down to the kid in question. The teens eyes seemed to flash in recognition, but Mustang was sure he must’ve been mistaken, as they had never met before, and the fact that the weird look disappeared as quickly as it came, wiping the kids face blank.

“Nah, you caught my leg though.” The kid said seemingly nonchalantly, confusing the team to give extremely confused and concerned looks.

The blonde kid in question sighed in irritation and lifted his pant leg to reveal Automail, which caused them to sigh in relief. Mustang, glad to see the kid was ok but not about to spare him the lecture, said sternly, “Alright where are your parents. It’s clear they either haven’t taught you to look both ways before crossing the street. Either that, or you were just being stupid.”

Hawkeye gave Mustang a pointed look, which he ignored completely, fully aware the Lieutenant would scold him later for his apathy towards the kids feelings and situation. What he said did manage to elicit a reaction from the teen in question, who promptly shot up and said, “I’m not stupid, bastard, I was in a bit of a hurry. And good luck finding my parents, one’s dead and the other is who knows where, so why don’t you shove off.”

“Look kid, you could’ve gotten hurt. What exactly happened?” Breda said, taking over for Mustang as Hawkeye attempted to calm the irrational rage that was currently overtaking the man.

“I was chasing some thief or whatever when your car barreled into me. What of it? He got away now, so there’s no point in having this conversation anyways.” The blonde grumbled, putting his hands on his hips.

“You said your parents are gone? How are you getting by? You look like you’re 14, 15 maybe—“

“I’M 17 JACKASS!”

“Jeez, temper- Well anyways kid, what’s your name?” Havoc said, attempting to make some semblance of peace in the conversation.

“Edward Elric. What’s it to you, who are you?” The kid said, his eyes darting away for half a second after his question. Mustang, who was calmer and watching the conversation, noted the general avoidance of eye contact with suspicion.

“Jean Havoc. Me and the team is under Brigadier General Roy Mustang, who’s right behind me.”

“Oh, Flame Alchemist, huh? Who the hell made his Brigadier General when he can’t seem to drive for shit?” Edward said, returning Mustangs seething glare with one of his own. This was going to become a feral cat fight if the insults kept flying, that was clear.

“I’d watch your tone. You’re talking to a Military Official, you know.” Mustang said with underlying irritation at having to play nice.

“Pshhh, please. You look like the white bread of military men, don’t go lecturing me. Anyways, I’ve got shit to do, so try not to plough into any more people on your way to some stuffy Military gala, will ya?” Edward said, walking away before any of the team could stop him.

It had taken a second for any of his men to truly process what happened, none of them knowing exactly what to do from there. Mustang found himself with more questions than answers, mainly about why Edward Elric was strangely familiar, and why the bickering and belittling came so easily to him, as if he had known him all along. Moreover, the strange title Fullmetal fit every aspect of the kid when he considered it, despite not being made entirely out of metal. The more he considered it, the more that the limited dots began to connect.

It was almost entirely impossible, and purely hypothetical in the mind of Roy Mustang, but he might’ve found who he’d been searching for.

“Should we go after him?” Furey asked, glancing back at his commanding officer.

“...No.” Mustang decided, regaining his authoritative tone. “Leave him for now. We’ve got his name, that’s all that matters for the moment. I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

The men slowly piled back into the car, uncertain curiosity plaguing most of its occupants. Mustang gripped the steering wheel, starting the engine, unaware of the very teen he was curious about having a depressive episode in a nearby alleyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hahaha cliffhangers, how I love thee! Thine gift of enraging readers is unchallenged!
> 
> The question is, which will we go to first? How Alphonse and the Resembool gang are doing? Or Ed’s little depressive episode? Thou must wonder where we shall go...
> 
> (Lol went a little Shakespearian there.)


	4. A Breaking Point and A Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ed breaks down. Mustang puts pieces together. Answers seem to only come with more questions. Ed might avoid reaching out to others, but that doesn’t mean others won’t reach out to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s been a hot second, I’m not gonna lie. But I am back, and more chapters are coming!!! I won’t talk much longer, just enjoy the chapter :)

“ Precept Twenty-Eight: 'Don't Peer Into the Darkness'. If you peer into the darkness and can't see anything for too long, your mind will start to linger over old memories. Memories are to be avoided, as per Precept Four.”

-Zote the Mighty, Hollow Knight (2017)

——————————————————————

Ed didn’t know what made him crack.

The fact that it fully solidified that Truth was right, maybe. The feeling of knowing the only person he could really fall back on didn’t even know his name. Maybe it was just everything colliding into one giant mess of emotions and longing. In all honesty, Ed suspected something like that would happen at some point. He didn’t break down often, he never had time.

Now he had all the time in the world.

He collapsed in the alleyway, numbly aware his automail was damaged and he needed to get someone to fix it. That didn’t matter at that moment though. What mattered then was everything, and nothing. The fact that he was really, truly dead to the world, and the fact he couldn’t seem to fix it.

Ed was a fighter. He couldn’t remake all those memories, bring back all that time. His skill set didn’t revolve around building relationships. If anything, it was the pure opposite of that.

He didn’t cry. He refused to, he didn’t need or want to. But he did just sit there, a mix of a sigh and a sob causing him to shutter. He must’ve looked pathetic. Like a lost kid, abandoned by everyone. It was ironic, really. In all the time he had been back, he realized his fear, his one true fear. Abandonment, even from an early age, was imminent, apparently.

He didn’t know how long he sat there.

He found himself walking back to his apartment who knows how long later, his numb stupor dissolving slightly. The walk passed by quicker then he could blink, his head spinning with the jumble of thoughts. He didn’t find it in him to dwell on it though. He didn’t have the energy.

That night wasn’t met with much sleep.

——————

Mustang got home late.

His home had been located in the East, even after his transfer to Central Command after being promoted. It was a bit of a ways, but he didn’t mind much. The sights of the East were favorable compared to Central, and he was closer to Madame Christmas there.

It did give him time to contemplate things a little deeper though.

He had come to realize that he was missing not one, but two people from his memory. The kid, who he had taken to referring to as “Fullmetal,” was only part of it. There was someone more, he couldn’t be more sure of it now. But that only really brought more questions. How did a kid, who looked like he was 14, become part of a military coup? And how did this other person fit in? Questions upon questions only kept coming.

He decided that the only one who could really answer was the kid himself. So he did some sleuthing.

More and more pieces of the puzzle that didn’t quite fit had become a part of it. He winced at the reminder of his best friends death in his mind, all too aware that this would probably be easier if he was still around. His death never quite made sense to Roy either. He knew at least that Hughes had discovered the Fuhrer’s ploy, but the circumstances of why he even figured it out were a mystery. Moreover, the mysterious case of Nina Tucker. Who discovered what her father was doing? Another hole, another supposed dead end.

The more he thought about it, the more the kid made sense in all of it. If he was part of the military (which god he hopes not,) then he would’ve gone on a lot of missions. Maybe he sent him to investigate Tucker, or had been referred to him for some reason. There had to be a reason for him being sent to Tucker, but he was left scratching his head on that one.

He had deduced the kids general area, that is assuming that when he ran him over (partially ran him over, he wondered numbly how the kid was faring,) he was near home, and decided that before work, he would patrol around to see if he could find the kid in some nearby shops or something. 

He only hoped that he wouldn’t sound crazy when he explained his predicament.

————————————————

Today’s meaningless and time consuming job: Fixing a sign.

Yeah, Edward wondered if his younger self could see him, how badly he would react. At least he could use his full alchemy to patch up his leg, albeit shabbily. He really should’ve been paying more attention to Winry when she was babbling on about the inner mechanics. At least it still worked. He was deliberately using circles though, making his work a bit more on the shabbier side, of only to be unnoticed by the military. He wasn’t ready, not to try and get everyone back.

He wasn’t sure if he ever would be.

Regardless, this sign wasn’t going to fix itself. Drawing the circle with cheap chalk, Ed let out a breath of air, clearing his mind of anything that wouldn’t be of use in that moment. It was _nice_ , in all honesty, to just practice a bit. To take more time in his work. He never really dwelled much on it in his military time, mainly because in the heat of battle, details didn’t really matter, so long as it was functional. But now, he could enjoy the process more, he let himself sink into the wonders of alchemy he had grown to love as a kid...

“An alchemist, huh? Makes sense then, why your leg is repaired.” A familiar baritone voice snapped him out of his stupor.

Edwards eyes popped open. Things just got interesting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Colonel Bastard is gonna reach out huh? Let’s see how trusting Ed’s gonna be.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha I guess this’ll be multi-chapter. It kinda became that way. Will Ed be remembered? Is there hope? Or will he continue to suffer? Who knows. Not you, but you will. I’ll keep it all in my head ;)


End file.
